


"Can you just sit with me until it's over?"

by Xemriss



Category: Flight Rising, Original Work
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Sickfic, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 13:45:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17427029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xemriss/pseuds/Xemriss
Summary: Hikuli wakes on his side, body curled into a ball tight enough that his muscles ache. He shivers despite the blanket covering him, sweats as if he’s been running in the hot, summer sun. His thin clothes uncomfortably cling to him as if he went swimming in them.





	"Can you just sit with me until it's over?"

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt " _Can you just sit with me until it's over?_ " from [**this post**](https://anonyony1.tumblr.com/post/173213724532/sick-prompts-1).
> 
> [ **Kirthi**](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=15008306) belongs to Avalonian #11466 on FR.
> 
> Characters are in humanoid form.

**[Hikuli](http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=42178103)** wakes on his side, body curled into a ball tight enough that his muscles ache. He shivers despite the blanket covering him, sweats as if he’s been running in the hot, summer sun. His thin clothes uncomfortably cling to him as if he went swimming in them.

The room he’s in is dark. He briefly, weakly, struggles to keep his eyes open, to focus on _something_ , yet doesn’t fight the feeling of sleep when it begins to tug him back under.

The moment the sweet, embracing dark almost has him, it’s interrupted by something cold touching his face. He gives a startled gasp and tries to jerk his head from it, immediately regrets the movement as a throbbing pain immediately settles itself behind his eyes.

His pitiful whimper is quickly abated by a soothing, familiar, “shh”. Coherent thought is too much for the state he’s in, yet when a normally-warm hand, surprisingly cooler against his own burning-hot skin, caresses his cheek, he shivers and leans into it.

Hikuli hears her say something, yet can’t make out the words, and when he thinks she’s pulling away, his chest fills quick enough with panic that he’s almost certain he’ll drown in it. His clammy hand blindly shoots up to clutch her wrist, and he vaguely realizes then how dry his mouth feels as he wills himself to speak.

“Hikuli?”

He sharply jolts at hearing his name, hadn’t realized he drifted off. He feels fingers comb through his hair, wonders how it’s possible since he’s still holding her hand.

His first attempt at speaking doesn’t go very well, considering his voice refuses to work and his lips barely twitch. He furrows his brows when he hears a patient, encouraging, “hmm?”, slowly strings together the question in his head before trying again.

“C… jus’... ’it w’ me un... s’over?” he slurs.

There’s a pause that feels too long for him, and when he feels something soft press against his forehead he gladly lets the darkness pull him back under.


End file.
